From the very beginning of the Cate Blanchett-sounding Lord of the Rings-inspired opening, I knew the "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons" episode of Community was going to be a keeper.
You see, I’m a bit of a geek. I played Dungeons and Dragons in grade school and middle school. Collected comics in my early teens, decided it was uncool in my later teens, and then decided it was okay to admit that I missed it and started collecting again in my thirties. I read the Lord of Rings series, The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, the Magician series, The Dragonlance series, the MythAdventures…You get the picture.
Either you looked at those titles and nodded approvingly or shook your head and rolled your eyes (as my wife will), but you know just from the titles that these books have a devoted little community of people who know and understand the characters in these books like they know their own family. Much like the community of people who are devoted to Community.
Community is a show like Louie in a couple of ways: it can shift in tone very rapidly but naturally and also an audience does not know what they’re likely to get when they tune in from week to week. “Advanced Dungeons and Dragons” fits into a season that has already featured shows that used the DNA of movies like Space Camp, Adaptation, The Terminator, and The Secret Garden. It borrowed the conventions of thriller/action movies, claymation Christmas specials, and Just Say No programs. It’s a show that continually surprises by showing us familiar cinematic and television tropes in unfamiliar ways.
So it was absolutely appropriate that “AD&D” opens by recalling the epic sweep of Peter Jackson’s fantasy trilogy. This kind of majesty is what players of the game hope to create in their roleplaying. Unfortunately, what we look like instead is Chang, made up in blackface, overacting like a bad Shakespearean actor: “I am BRUTELLATOPS! The magician! Ha ha ha hee hee. Magic user, baby. What?!” Much of the humor of this episode comes from the incongruity of the ordinary situation – people sitting around a table – being elevated to mythic and legendary proportions.
The post-production sound effects such as the unsheathing of swords and the whizzing of arrows, the dramatic camera moves such as the great boom shot that swings down and catches Abed in closeup while he narrates the adventure, the non-diagetic mournful soundtrack as Chang’s character dies and the attendant slow-motion walk to Abed as Chang turns in his character’s sheet, the low angle shot of Pierce on his throne of janitorial supplies – all of these cinematic tricks make the mundane business of sitting at a table and talking larger than life. This exaggeration is funny because, really, how hard is it to sit around a table and roll some dice?
But gamers laugh because, yes, we know how silly this looks from the outside but outsized opera is actually what’s happening in our imagination. “AD&D” demonstrates how powerful imagination can be in the scene where Annie/Hector seduces the elf maiden. First the story is shocking and gripping enough that the group is either horrified that the seemingly-innocent Annie could describe the scene in such vivid detail (Shirley), intrigued that she could have such a dirty mind (Jeff), or eager to take notes for a future seduction of their own (Troy). Yet the real power of this scene comes entirely from the minds of the audience who must supply their own version of what is happening during the seduction since the scene plays out without dialogue. “AD&D” allows the audience to make the seduction as epic as they want.
All of which brings me to the real beauty of this episode. “Advanced Dungeons and Dragons” shows us that what all of us want to feel is that our lives are epic. The hyper-reality of the episode is kind of like how we see ourselves in our minds. Neil sees himself, not as someone who has been given a cruel nickname, but as a lowly peasant whose destiny is intertwined with his girth. Jeff sees himself, (SPOILER) not as someone who thoughtlessly gave someone else a cruel nickname, but as a knight who must find redemption at all costs. Pierce sees himself, not as someone who got left out of a game, but as a deposed king who must reclaim his power.
I think most of us want to be the stars of our own movies. It just makes everything more fun. As Neil says at the end of the episode, “That was the best game I ever played in my life.” It is better to use our imagination and our ego to make believe that we are the heroes of a mythic quest. Because believing it begins to make it real.
Next up: Where you watch makes a difference
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